“This simple action,” writes Bassompierre, “pierced me to the heart and affected me to such a degree that, feeling quite unequal to continuing the game, I simulated a bleeding of the nose and left the first cabinet and the second. On the stairs the _valets de chambre_ brought me my cloak and hat. My money I had left to take care of itself, but Beringhen[69] gathered it up. At the bottom of the staircase I found M. d’Épernon’s coach, and, entering it, I told the coachman to drive me to my lodging. I met my _valet de chambre_ and went up with him to my room, where I instructed him to say that I was not at my lodging; and I remained there two days, tormented like one possessed, without sleeping, eating, or drinking. People believed that I had gone into the country, as I was in the habit of playing such pranks. At length, my valet, fearing that I should die or lose my reason, acquainted M. de Praslin, who was much attached to me, of the state in which I was, and he came to see me, in order to divert my mind.” M. de Praslin succeeded in persuading Bassompierre that there was still something to live for, and brought him that evening to the Louvre, where “everyone was at first astonished to see that in the space of two days he had become so thin, pale and changed as to be unrecognisable.” A few days later, the Prince de Condé announced his intention of marrying Mlle. de Montmorency. The prince, who was by no means an amiable young man, had taken a dislike to Bassompierre, whose pretensions to the young heiress’s hand would, but for the intervention of the King, have most certainly been preferred to his own; and happening to meet his discomfited rival, said to him with obvious malice: “M. de Bassompierre, I beg you to come to my hôtel this afternoon and accompany me to Madame d’Angoulême’s, whither I propose going to pay my respects to Mlle. de Montmorency.” “I made him a low bow,” says Bassompierre, “but I did not go there.” It is probable that the loss of Mlle. de Montmorency’s dowry and all the advantages which his alliance with so illustrious a family would have brought him distressed Bassompierre a good deal more than the loss of the young lady herself. “It is true,” says he, “that there was not at that time under Heaven a being more beautiful than Mlle. de Montmorency, nor one more graceful or perfect in every respect. She had made a deep impression upon my heart; but, as it was a love which was to be regulated by marriage, I did not feel my disappointment so much as I should otherwise have done.” Nor had he far to look for consolation, and “in order not to remain idle and to console myself for my loss, I sought diversion in making my peace with three ladies, with whom I had totally broken in expectation of marrying--one of them being Antragues.”